Updating
by PinkCandy-x
Summary: Blayden. Yes, I am awful at summaries. And titles. This particular title came from a random word generator, and it matched oddly well considering... Anyhoo, slash. And I hope this sad attempt at a summary hasn't put you off.
1. Chapter 1

**Lets get this boring crap out the way…**

**Disclaimer: Yep, of course, I still don't own ANYTHING! & never will! All belongs to Quantic Dream or whoever. **

**Umm.. I've had this what? idea? going in my head for a while now, and thought that, whilst I've got alllllllllll this ridiculous amount of free time, I might as well put pen to paper, or keyboard to monitor? I suppose it's a teeny bit different to what's on here, but I always wanted to do one where they were already really close/lovers. 3 & so here it is. The result of many a day without university. (Y).**

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><p>As the morning sun drifted in creating a partial glow amongst the fresh, white furniture and pine walls, a set of toes curled delicately underneath the haphazardly thrown cream faux throw. Muscles and skin stretched as the suns shadow covered the latter half of the room and the thirty-six year old turned onto his back, a brief smile gracing his face, eyes still closed as he lifted his arms to place them under his thick hair. Chuckling lightly, Norman began to open his eyes before quickly squeezing the lids together again, wanting to continue basking in the memories of the previous two days.<p>

'_Finally mine_…' he mused blissfully, thinking back to the Sancerre, Rioja, meat canapés, and dancing. Etta James was the _perfect_ choice, Norman recalled, grinning as he remembered being spun skilfully along the polished floor, "… my love had come along, my lonely days are over…" he sung softly, his voice catching in his throat - elated that Carter had actually allowed the song for their first dance, although he smiled remembering the amount of '_persuading_' he had to do. Reminiscing once more about the lights and cheers, (and just how damn _gorgeous_ Carter looked in his dark tailcoat with purple lining), Norman sung lowly and huskily once more, bringing his left hand up above him, "…and here we are in heaven… for you are mine… at last," and gazing at the platinum ring.

Exhaling contently, Norman sat up, careful to not disturb the man beside him, and ran a hand through his hair before getting up and softly padding over to the chair to retrieve and step into his navy tracksuit. Admiring the older man who still lay in the bed, beautifully unaware of his beaus departure, Norman opened the large glass door and walked onto the open, broad balcony, leaning his arms against the smooth railing as he gazed out to the beach.

"Maui really is beautiful," he murmured in his light, Bostonian accent, absorbing the deep orange sky and partial silhouetted trees, shaking gently in the light breeze. The green vegetation, golden roads and strong, clay mountains - everything he had imagined the island to be and more. Closing his eyes briefly, Norman allowed the peaceful wind to entwine him, and he inhaled the fresh air, showing his grey eyes to the scene before him a long while later - watching a tanned young boy and girl running and throwing sand at each other as they hopped and glided along his view in the sweltering heat. Smiling shortly, Norman looked down and tented his fingers. Although not quite a smoker, he couldn't resist wanting one of Carter's precious Marlboros as he turned his slim body, elbows leaning back on the cool railing as another humble gust of wind swept through him, allowing his ruffled hair to sway along briefly. Pressing his eyelashes together, he envisioned his and Carter's future town home on the suburbs of Washington. Tomatoes, potatoes and Sweet Williams growing in the garden as his husband flexed those colossal muscles as a he hammered pieces of eucalyptus wood together to build the swing he knew they would crave. His mind flickered to the image of their bedroom, white, light and crisp. Contemporary yet traditional, with famous Kandinsky prints spread throughout the room, the image of '_On White II_' filling him. Their rooms would be equally dazzling - light pink walls with stone white furniture, square noiseless orange shelves, with a pink and purple butterfly rug alongside the single Disney princess bed. Of course, his room would also be one of the best, with its soft green walls and pale yellow furniture as giraffes, pandas and monkeys decorated the room beautifully. He would grow up to be an explorer, have a curious, exquisite mind alongside his sister, their lives fulfilled in everything, achieving pure happiness.

Sighing heavily in content, the corner of Norman's lips lifted slightly, the smile barely noticeable unless you looked for it, as he looked down at the planks of wood splintering in areas. Of course, he and Carter had had '_the talk_,' - whether it was ethical, fair, or even a good idea. He'd always wanted children, even more so as the years elapsed, and although he managed to wangle it out of the older man that he too wanted a few mini Carter's running around their future home, each time they _really_ set about doing something, Norman found himself becoming distant, and escaping, running from anything associated with children. Once more slowly lifting his head, Norman fixed his eye-line to gaze at his lover through the large glass doors, blinking profusely before expelling a low groan. Rolling his shoulders back and cracking his pale neck, Norman made a resolution before picking up a foot to make his way inside, determined that for _once_ in his fucking life, he wouldn't let his past ruin what happiness he actually had.

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><p><strong>I would really appreciate some feedback, constructive criticism or whatever. But I hope you guys liked it. =] Also, can I change a title once I've published a story? I sure hope so…<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**And here it is! An incredibly pointless chapter after a long ass wait for an update. =]**

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><p>"Sex relaxes you, doesn't it?" the brunet breathed, allowing his rapidly beating heart to subside as he flopped down onto the soft, springy mattress, arms hugging his lean body.<p>

Raising an eyebrow, Carter looked to the man resting beside him and shifted slightly. "What? You didn't realise?" His voice dripping with sarcasm although laced with amusement.

"No officer, I didn't," Norman teased, punching his beau playfully.

"Then we obviously don't belong together," the lieutenant joked, "give me my ring back."

"Never."

Grunting, Carter rolled the ivory sheets down and swung his newly tanned legs to his side of the low bed, stretching his large arms before standing up. Norman bit his lip and gazed at his husband's naked form before looking away quickly in embarrassment. '_If Carter ever caught me staring, he'll never let me forget_.' But he couldn't help himself as he once more began to drink in Blake's appearance; from his bronzed, sculptured back to his defined thighs and calves. Despite the slight beer belly, the man still looked damn good for his age and Norman couldn't help but admire that chiseled backside as Carter padded over to his black suitcase and bent down, retrieving a few papers from a manila folder.

"Those better not be case files," Norman called softly, smiling when he heard Carter snort loudly.

"Listen, I'm not you. I don't work on honeymoons." And he slipped back into bed, close enough to brush a shoulder against the Bostonian. Sighing happily, Norman remembered the day he vowed to bed a police officer. He was nineteen, on a field trip in Paris and upon exiting the train at Gare de Lyon station he saw a group of policemen - muscular, authoritative and downright sexy; their dark hair and cream coloured skin drove him wild. Maybe it was the guns they carried so freely or their obviously toned bodies beneath their navy uniform that made him determined to fuck one. He didn't know, and he didn't particularly care, but what he _did_ know was that he managed to fulfil his sexual dream, and even marry one. He couldn't believe his luck.

"What're you smiling about?" interrupting his reverie, Carter seemed engrossed in the papers and, having found a red pen, was circling words on the sheets.

"Nothing," Norman frowned and sat up, leaning his back against the cool pine headboard. "What are you looking at?"

"Houses," Blake replied nonchalantly, "for us." And, smiling, Carter looked affectionately into Norman's grey eyes. "I like this one, four bedrooms and a large-ish garden near Embassy Row. It's decently furnished by the looks of it and we could renovate it if we wanted to."

Grimacing lightly, Norman took the paper from Carter's hand and analysed it quickly. Sure, it's large, in a nice area and has a south facing garden but it wasn't what he wanted. "I'd prefer to stay in Capitol Hill," he murmured.

"I thought we'd discussed this, Norm," Carter's lips had settled into a subtle thin line, "didn't we _both_ agree _just_ last week that this neighbourhood would be better for our future _family_?"

Christ; there was that word again, 'family.' A concept so beautiful and awe-inspiring it made Norman bristle. His straight nose flared in strong disgust as he digested the word, '_I'm not good enough for family; hell, what kid would love a drug taking, abused, hallucinator who works too damn much and is rarely at home_?' "You and me are a family, Carter, we don't need to add to it. I think we should just keep the flat we already have in Capitol Hill." Ignoring Blake's agitated scowl, Norman turned to face the glass doors and fell into deep thought, mentally harming himself for already breaking his resolution.

"Don't bullshit me, Norman. You were the one who brought kids up in the first fucking place, and now you want to backtrack? Well guess what Norm, I want them, and I'm not getting any damn younger," Carter spat.

"Sorry," Norman mumbled in a thick accent, "I guess I've just changed my mind." '_As you usually do when you see sense_,' the brunet scolded himself.

"_Just_ changed your mind? You don't _just_ change your mind as flippantly as that!" And, exhaling loudly, Blake continued softly, "you always do this, tiger, you always say you want _more_ one minute and then completely disregard it the next. You've got to tell me _why_," Carter entreated, grasping Norman's warm hand. Norman felt his blood heat gently upon hearing his husband's nickname for him; he usually only heard it when the older man wanted it rough and hard in the bedroom... or the kitchen, or shower. Turning his head back to stare into blue eyes, Norman ran his other hand through his rumpled hair and sighed.

"I just.. changed my mind," he smiled falsely, moving closer to snuggle against Carter, "thought about it... the money, the time, the effort, is it really worth it? And anyway, I'd miss having you to myself."

Raising a thick brow, Carter rolled his eyes and chuckled, "you talk shit, you know that right?" Norman grumbled and toyed with the sheet that covered him partially, feeling its smooth texture.

"I know."

"And you know I'm gonna get you drunk as hell just so I can get an honest answer out of you, right?"

"Are you now?" Norman challenged, smiling sadly.

"Yep, and we are going to Mulligans On The Blue restaurant and bar tonight. We only have a couple of nights left before we leave on Friday and I would like to make the most of it."

"Trust you to pick the only Irish bar in Maui."

"It goes with my heritage," Carter grinned, "what can I say?" and, placing an arm around Norman, he squeezed tightly.

"You're only quarter Irish."

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><p>Picking at the golden fried calamari, Norman eyed the Guinness Carter was guzzling greedily.<p>

"Stop watching," Carter smirked, "it's not _my_ fault you got that God-awful drink and now want to have mine."

Looking down at his light brown and sunrise coloured cocktail, Norman scrunched his face delicately. The John Daly cocktail looked good at the time, with its promise of vodka and lemonade, but why did he order it knowing the vodka was tea flavoured? He hated tea, and had always been an avid coffee drinker since fifteen.

"Fine, I'll just order another drink," and, signalling the attractive tanned barman, Norman pointed to the Budweiser. Turning to face the entertainment, where a large man with curly hair and a guitar stood up on the brightly coloured stage, Norman smiled and gripped Carter's hand for a moment. '_I'm happy_.' Squeezing his hand, Carter leaned over so his breath ghosted the taller man's ear.

"I'm just going for a piss, I'll be back."

"How eloquently put, Mr. Blake."

"Anything for you, _Mr_. Jayden," and, turning on his heel, the lieutenant strode through the small crowd.

Facing the bar once more, Norman eyed the red barstool beside him and slid onto it before grabbing Carter's remaining Guinness and finishing it. '_There! That'll teach him to not share with me!'_ He grinned as the psychologist within him commented on his action, '_just like a child, Norman_.' He froze, and looking down, closed his eyes briefly.

There was that word again, _child_, except this time it was _him_ bringing it up. '_You need to get over this, and stop goddamn overreacting!_' he scolded, '_you already know what's wrong with you; you want children but you're scared for what will happen when you inevitably fuck up. So just calm the fuck down and enjoy married life, at least you _understand_ your problem... and understanding is halfway to fixing, right?_'

Jumping, Norman exhaled with relief when he recognised the calloused hand that covered his shoulder. "Finished my beer, have you?" Carter whispered dangerously, "that offence is punishable," and slinking into the barstool beside him, he picked up Norman's Budweiser and took a gulp. "Hey, you okay?"

"MmmHmm.. just admiring the surroundings."

Carter scoffed, "bullshit, but I suppose it's time to get you drunk," and he signalled the barman for two vodka shots.

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><p><strong>Gosh, this has to be the longest chapter I have <em>ever<em> written.**


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